One Uncommon Day
by chojutsuka
Summary: Two years after Raccoon City, David's mediocre life is disrupted when Kevin comes walking into his local bar. Was this just coincidence or...? DavidxKevin Resident Evil:Outbreak Storyline
1. Chapter 1

This story is rated Mature for adult themes and language.

Disclaimer: I did not create Resident Evil or it's characters. I own the games...but sadly, that's it. Still doesn't mean I can't use my imagination.

* * *

A hot, muggy day in August. The ceiling fan turned lazily as he watched people chatting on about nothing in particular, the jukebox partially drowning out the conversation. Not that loud, he noticed, it managed to reach just above the noise level - probably due to its age and excessive play. 

Just the same shit. On a different day, he surmised, as he tilted the glass back. His thought pattern was disrupted at the sound of a familiar voice.

Or maybe it wouldn't be after all, he wondered, observing the scene before him. He took another swig, because he knew he needed it. Hell, he was pretty good at holding his liquor.

* * *

He pretty much retained the same, sullen attitude after he survived hell. Everything else seemed mundane. Move to a new town, start a new life, forget about the one left behind. Forget everything, a fresh, clean start. Got a job as a janitor where he could put his talent of assembling and fixing things to use. A pretty normal life. No wife, no kids…no strings at all for that matter; nobody to bother him, nobody for him to keep up with…or keep interest in. 

For the most part he spent his nights here in the corner booth observing people who came in. Some were regulars trying to escape their normal routines. Others were passing by, excitedly talking about future stops on their way to this or that, mostly talks of exotic places.

He watched and took in the scene. This dreary bar was the only place he could feel normal without getting involved or socializing with anyone.

He fingered the lighter in his hands and placed it on the table. A finger down, he spun it circles somewhat mimicking that of the slow turning of the ceiling fan. He tended to do these things as he thought, and those memories seem to always creep back in.

He never really was one to talk much, even before the incident. There's not much room for idle talk, he thought. Even now.

* * *

It was another night he woke drenched with sweat, clutching at his own throat. All those people; their faces contorted, color drained from their faces. The flesh literally falling off of their bones and the smell was enough to turn his stomach. Those damn freaks, he thought. For the fourth night in a row he dreamed about them. Their hungry faces, clawing and biting, trying to pull the meat from any living thing close enough to reach. It was too real to be a dream. 

The man traveled to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Twisting the cap off of a bottle, he settled down at the table and drank. It had been two years since Raccoon City, and he still thought of those damned beasts. Their eyes (granted if they still have them both) rolled up in their sockets, drool falling from their open mouths, tongues wagging in anticipation…

Enough, he told himself. Working up the images would only do worse, and he needed to be at his job tomorrow. He downed the rest of his beverage and sauntered back to bed. It was eerily quiet - or was he just noticing because of the nightmare? Dismissing all of the nonsense he settled into bed to finish out the night. Even if getting a good night's rest was bleak, he still needed sleep for work tomorrow.

Work was dull, as usual. Fix a computer, make sure the electrical wiring was routed properly. Same shit. The most he could hope for was the pleasurable release of some alcohol.

He found his way to his usual spot soon after and scooted into the corner. With a full glass, he drank liberally and listened to the normal, everyday affairs that somehow eluded his own life. He didn't need to have these trivial relationships, he concluded. It's not that it mattered to him; he didn't need to have anything. Trying to engage people in small talk didn't seem to hold water, because nobody acted the way they truly were. Idle talk was just more bullshit. That's why he didn't socialize. Here, he could at least watch and listen; relationship problems, plans for dinner, a new raise at work. He didn't have to feel the repercussions of lying or cheating, because it didn't involve him. Just as easily as he started, he could stop listening or turn to a different conversation.

Even today on this muggy August day, everything seemed so bleak and regular. The day in, day out routine seemed to have been getting the best of him. Same shit. Different day, he thought to himself. He almost hoped something new would happen…but he didn't like change.

Just then 'he' stumbled in. It was like a bucket of ice water slapped right across his face, and the wave of recognition was just as cold as he immediately knew who it was. Nothing so profound had ever been etched on his memory like those two years ago, and here was a living reminder that it _did_ happen. Two years ago, after all, wasn't that long ago.

"How do I have to lay to get a beer?" he said, already way past intoxicated. He was sure the man meant 'who' but at this point, it probably didn't matter.

The waitress looked up at the grisly disheveled man and frowned. "Not you again, Kevin." she protested. "Go home and sleep it off."

"But eym not tyerd" he managed. "Aye want to PARTAY!" he swaggered to the jukebox and kicked it. He wasn't satisfied when there was silence; he hadn't planned that.

"Does any'bdy have any qortrs?" he asked apologetically.

"Get out, and stop kicking my jukebox like somethin's going to happen!" the bartender yelled. She looked pretty steamed.

It was then that in all honesty he could not say why, but he moved from his fortress of solitude and sauntered up to the bar. In all honesty he could care less. In all honesty, he wanted to finish his drink, go home and get ready for work the next day.

For some reason, he decided to intervene.

_Just the same shit on a different day._ Or maybe it wouldn't be after all, he wondered.

"Linda, a beer for my friend here." He gestured.

"As if he hasn't had enough already," she grumbled. But if the man was paying, and he has been a long time patron – why should she complain?

Kevin's vision swam through the beer goggles to find out the courteous man offering him a beer. It seemed as though he sobered up for a moment when he recognized him. "David?" Kevin smiled widely. "Hey man! How'z life treatin' ya'?"

He had almost forgotten that southern drawl Kevin had. It brought back more than a few memories, some he didn't necessarily want.

"Good, pal. And you?" David quizzed back.

"Absofrikinlutely horrible" Kevin managed, and David was startled at his own laugh. He always did appreciate Kevin's honesty.

* * *

Notes: 

This story is me having fun. I had been playing around with the idea of a Kevin and David pairing for some time, so I just threw it out there. Don't worry, my other story won't suffer, I just needed some creativity release. I'll probably post a couple more chapters soon. Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

Now that he had gotten closer, David was better able to scrutinize Kevin. As Kevin drooped over the counter, he could tell these last couple years were tough on him. Thick, coarse stubble clung to his jaw line. Now that he recalled, Kevin always had stubble. It seemed that a recent attempt had been made to remove it, albeit it had been a poorly executed one.

His hair seemed disheveled but on closer inspection it had been trimmed in the back not too long ago. The top had a wild pattern yet somehow it fit his rugged features.

When it came to Kevin's eyes however, he felt a twinge. Dark circles creased around his eyes and David had a good idea what those were from; nightmares of those damned freaks had a habit of destroying a good night's sleep for him as well. Hell, anybody that survived Raccoon City would probably never sleep again, he concluded.

He almost didn't notice it; there was no light in Kevin's eyes. Someone once told him that 'the eyes are the window to a person's soul'. If that truly was the case, it seemed that his soul went on vacation. They were dull, lifeless and shifty as soon as anyone got too close. This was hardly something he thought he would see in Kevin. He recalled a moment in the RC Police Department of fiery, confident eyes that sparked with determination. This was a far cry from the man he once knew.

David also recalled at that moment that they didn't particularly like each other back then. Both were headstrong and would wind up trying to do things their own way. He could only hope Kevin was too smashed to notice; the last thing he wanted to be involved in was a bar fight.

"So wut have you been up to, my man?" Kevin struggled to keep his speech together.

"I'm a janitor."

"Oh, that's swell." Kevin sat and puzzled for a second. "You used to be – lemme see…a plumber right? Like Mario!"

"Yeah."

"Sweet! Janitors don't have butt cracks showing." Kevin cracked a grin at his lame joke. His face straightened, and looked serious for a moment. "You know, crack kills." he laugh was boisterous.

"That's why I wore a jumpsuit" he almost said, but let the retort drop. Instead he followed up with his own line of questioning. "So what do _you_ do now?"

"I'm a beat cop. It sucks, but it's what I do best, I guess." He swirled the drink around in his glass and watched the sweat bead onto the lacquered wood counter. "I never did like desk jobs."

Almost instantly a coaster miraculously appeared under the drink, along with a shot of disapproval from Linda, the barmaid.

"Sorreeee" he mouthed, then glanced back at David. "Hasn't looked like you've changed at all. It's kind of…reassuring, I guess. After all that shit from RC, It's nice to know that some things don't change." He went back to staring inside his glass. Then he popped it up and finished it in one long gulp. "Gimme another and a chaser, and I'm gonna hit the road." declaring to the bartender. Just like that, it was there. It was gone almost as quickly too; the drink went down impossibly fast.

Turns out that Kevin did hit the road afterwards, but not the way he had intended. David had no idea where he lived, for ironically he had no ID on him. So, he pulled a few strings to have Kevin's motorcycle stay at the bar overnight while he dragged his limp body into the backseat of his car. It was a clunker, but god be damned if he wanted puke in the backseat. That shit lingered for months. He made short work of Kevin, depositing him on the bench and slamming the door shut. He just hoped that he would stay unconscious long enough for him to get back out of the car. He had no intention of finding out what the contents of Kevin's stomach were.

David actually lived fairly close to the bar, so it took him no time at all to get there. Kevin still was passed out in the back, a slow snore emitting from his throat. Now, all he had to do was get him up out of the car…than up the stairs; one, two, three. Shouldering Kevin was actually pretty easy to manage, even doing most of the work. It seemed that he had lost some weight over the years... Then, into the house, down the hallway, and - flop - onto the bed. He pulled some blankets out of the linen closet and tossed them over Kevin.

He thought that the bedroom would be the fastest access to the bathroom, since they were adjoining rooms. The couch was harder to navigate – by prior experience – so he decided to sleep on the couch. He didn't mind at all; actually he found himself sleeping more and more on the couch lately, anyway. He kept the doors open between rooms so that he could see Kevin (now curled up into a ball and snoring louder) in case he needed anything. Then, sure that everything was in place, he drifted to sleep himself.

It was a vivid dream, much like the ones these past few nights; running down the hallway craning his neck around the turns as not to run into someone – or _something_ unexpected. Those freaks again, clawing and chasing after him. Each of the zombies had their own unique battle scars; one limped, dragging one foot behind him because it was twisted awkwardly at the ankle. Another suffered a gaping head wound, brain and black ooze trailed down its face. A woman was missing an arm and most of her innards, as she tripped on them in her pressing gait. They all had that vacant stare, their eyes glazed over and dead. There were too many, far more than he could count.

Then he was in the sewer. _Don't go that way_, he thought to himself, but he always did. It was the only way to go, the only way not already blocked off by the hordes of zombie freaks coming after him. He knew all too well what the tunnel held for him; a dead end, the ladder too high to reach and only a magazine of bullets left. This was his perpetual hell. _His nightmare_.

This time it was different.

"Move. It. Or. Lose. It!" was the cry, as several potshots whizzed over this shoulder. When did this happen?

"I said MOVE!" he yelled signaling David to the exit, still firing off bullets from his '45. A tell-tale blue officers' uniform blazoned with the RPD insignia, the stance, those eyes…

"FUCK!" shots fired.

That mouth. David tore around behind Kevin and fired off a few rounds himself.

"I've got ya covered. Get up the ladder so we can get out of here!" Indeed, the ladder was accessible now. _How'd that happen?._

David didn't want to leave him. He didn't want Kevin to be the last one out. He certainly didn't want a cocky young hotshot cop saving his life, just to hang it over his head later. "I can handle this!" he yelled over the gunfire.

"BULLSHIT! I told you to get out of here, or I'll shoot you myself!" he cocked the gun and pointed it toward David, driving the point. Those eyes, he thought, groping up the ladder. Fiery, determined; like a forest caught in a sea of flames. He could tell why he was so close to being on the STARS team, as he had always boasted.

"Oh, FUCK OFF ALREADY!" More shots. David unfortunately could also tell why he didn't. Badgering your superior officer and aggravating fellow coworkers wouldn't get you too many positive marks. Besides the attitude, Kevin had all the right attributes; excellent marksmanship, quick on his feet, and fast with his thinking.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled, and tossed an empty magazine into the approaching crowd. He turned and practically flew up the ladder, almost meeting David at the landing.

"See that wasn't so bad at all. You just got to listen every now and then." Kevin smiled wide and slapped David on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of this hell hole."

David awoke suddenly, hearing an eerie sound emanating from his bathroom. Collecting his senses, his thoughts flooded back from yesterday – after all, he could hold his liquor - and remembered the visitor he'd brought home with him. Another retch confirmed that Kevin was indeed in the bathroom. David hoped he had made it to the toilet without incident.

Pushing his ear to the door gently, he could hear Kevin mumbling curses under his breath. Something dawned on him from the fading traces of nightmare now receding from his mind: A memory nagging at him, not far from that horrific place and time. Deep in Raccoon City, on that fateful night…

Kevin _had_ saved him.


	3. Chapter 3

Here's chapter three of the Kevin/David installment. It's kinda long, but I hope you all like it. Review either way, I appreciate the feedback! Contains lots of Mature rating violence, language, and a touch of yaoi-tendencies to boot.

Disclaimer - I do not own Resident Evil. Neh.

* * *

"God…do you have any aspirin?" Kevin said quietly as if not to disturb even the smallest creatures in the world. 

"Yeah, in the top shelf of the cabinet…here." realizing that Kevin was in no hurry to get up, casually reached over and pulled down the bottle.

"Thanks" Kevin whispered before swallowing the pills down dry. He pulled himself to his feet to grab a handful of water from the tap, and then sink slowly back to toilet-level.

"How did I…_what_ did I do?" he asked meekly, pulling the handle down with a courtesy flush.

"Pass out." was all David could manage. "I'll put on some coffee."

"Strong, please."

"Yeah." David replied and went into the kitchen.

Slowly, Kevin emerged from the bathroom still clutching his stomach. "I feel like an ass. It's the first time I meet you in…" - he stopped to think - "two years? You must have a high opinion about me right now." He managed a half chuckle, but it came as more of a quick exhale for concern of disrupting his gut and sending him racing back to the bathroom.

Hangovers had a habit of making people think very seriously. Since when did he care what anybody thought? he wondered. Instead, David just shrugged. "You seemed to be down on your luck. "Can't say I haven't been in the same boat."

"Thanks for watching out for me. Hell, I don't know how I got this far in life. I must have one helluva guardian angel on my shoulder." He smiled apologetically. "So, if you don't mind me asking…what exactly did I say yesterday? I wasn't too bad…?" he could see Kevin's eyes swimming, trying to find some piece of recognition from last night.

"No, but you did kick a jukebox." David smirked, more at Kevin's reaction than his own words. A second smile in two days, he thought. That's rare for me.

"Linda's gonna flail me." He accentuated with his head – thunk – on the table. David winced at the sound, because he knew his head hit too hard. A muffled "argh" escaped from his mouth.

A question sprung to mind. "Do you live around here?" David inquired. Up until last night, he had never seen him around before.

"Yeah, sort of." His voice trailed off. "I was transferred here, about three months ago." He offered a pitiful laugh. "Misconduct towards a fellow officer, is what they called it. Even though I probably rearranged his face so bad he had to breathe through his ass."

The visual offered something of interest. An eyebrow raise from David had indicated that Kevin should elaborate.

"They just don't understand what I…' he paused "what _we_ went through." There was a strained laugh as he recalled the event. "The guy was a rookie, still green around the edges. I went through a couple of departments already, and rumors travel fast. He caught wind of the fact I was stationed at RPD, during the virus incident. That's what started it." Kevin gritted his teeth. "First he started with the stupid stuff. That was easy to ignore; jumping out of the dark trying to frighten me, stumbling down the hallway with his arms out, squishing ketchup onto his face…real tough prankster shit." He noted sarcastically. "So much so I really didn't get what he was trying to _do_ at first. After about a month of moaning, I finally tried to call him off and tell him it wasn't funny. That's when –"

"The shit hit the fan," David mused. "I guess the fan finally busted."

"That's only half of it" he rolled his eyes. "The part that really got me going was when he asked me what it felt like to off my ex-coworkers. To anybody else that would be amusing I guess." He stared long and hard into his coffee. "Problem was I had…I really _did_ have to kill my friends…they were like - family." He looked up at David with a sad smile in his eyes. It flickered back into anger as he recalled. "That's when I KO'd the little bastard." He held up his fist, and David noticed the scar that ran across his knuckles. "Learned a valuable lesson that day."

"What's that?"

"Don't punch a bastard in the mouth. It'll get infected."

David chuckled. A laugh? It seemed that Kevin had that effect on him.

Checking the clock on the wall, David realized that he had to go to work. "You're welcome to stay," he heard himself say. "I'll be back this afternoon, since I work the early shift." Why was he telling him this?

"That'd be great. I don't feel like moving too much right now." he still clutched his abdomen, a weak smile on his face. Suddenly he seemed to recall something. "Where's my bike?"

"I asked Linda to keep it at the bar overnight as a favor, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you take it off her hands." David gave Kevin the directions for things around the area, and left for work.

Out of all the typical day in day out scenarios, today felt…_unusual_. Parts of the conversation that he and Kevin shared lingered in his mind while he did his tasks; tape up some electrical wires, repair a burst pipe… Why did it feel like things had changed? It somewhat left him in an uncomfortable state: He was not used to thinking about anything – or anybody else – in his menial life. He wasn't much for chatting, but with Kevin it felt…different. For the rest of the day he thought about what they had said and future exchanges they may have.

When he arrived at home, the house was oddly quiet. In the kitchen was a hastily scribbled note on a napkin, disclosing information that Kevin went to retrieve his motorcycle. David entertained the idea of going to the bar as well…such would be a part of his regular routine anyway.

A little part was hoping that Kevin would still be around.

After cleaning off the grime and dirt he finally settled on going to his local haunt, for reasons he still could not quite understand. Just a gut instinct, he surmised, and left it at that. After a brisk walk he arrived at the front step, determined to maintain his usual practice.

It was loud, he noticed – more so than usual. It seemed to be from a singular cause.

Kevin's motorcycle sat in the same spot as yesterday. There were several choppers next to it as well; it seemed that there was a group of riders passing through town.

All of a sudden, David had a sinking feeling. Today, he thought, wasn't promising to be any less eventful.

As he stepped in, he immediately noticed the large crowd across the bar stools. Ordering the usual, he slid into his customary booth and tuned into the topic of interest.

He realized that Kevin was at the center of all the commotion (he already had a suspicion) and was acting much like the night before.

"…and then" he continued, stumbling a bit on the bar stool "that's when I put a grenade launcher to that sonnavabitch! Mutant, Mr. X, piece of shit – whatever." Kevin made the motion of putting a 'grenade launcher' to his side and firing. "PEW…BOOM! HA!"

He was crocked, mused David.

"That's how we managed to get out of town." He finalized and plopped back down on the stool.

A random listener commented, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Yeah, I'm sure the fate of the city was all up to you."

"Damn right," catching onto the remark. "You tryin' to say somthin'?"

This was going to get rough, David thought. He'd seen quite a number of brawls in his life – not too many in this tavern particularly – but he knew when things would get ugly. This was it.

"Yeah, I do. It sounds like you're fulla shit." He said matter-of-factly.

"Fuck off. If I want your opinion I'll ask," he chuckled. "and I don't think I'll be asking anytime soon." Kevin stumbled into the bar counter and reached for his drink.

"I'll be thinking you shouldn't take that tone with me, if you like your face the way it is." the hulking man stood - towering above Kevin – and looked down at him.

Apparently Kevin did not take heed of the stranger's height nor girth. He casually waived his hand in the man's direction. "Fuck off already, I don't need anymore girlfriends."

The punch came fast enough to knock Kevin off his feet. He fell backwards from the blast but recovered quickly jumping up to return the blow.

Kevin could have probably held his own against the large opponent, for the first punch he landed stunned the adversary and the quick jab that followed toppled the brute. However the fellows that man came in with didn't think they should just watch the fight – and they had weapons.

There were eight men in all, and each of them were quite larger than Kevin. Two of them grabbed pool sticks and a few of them had knives. Luckily for Kevin, he had learned grappling in the force; he deftly disarmed, confiscated and retaliated with said weapons from two of the opponents. Unfortunately while he was busy with them, a third came up from behind and cracked a pool stick over his head.

While watching the bar scene unfold, David had a mental dispute.

_Should I help?_

_No, I should probably let him handle this, he's the one who started it._

_He looks like he's taking a pretty good beating though, and who else would help him if not me?_

_Nah, he'd probably get in my face about saving him – he's the hotshot._

_Goddammit_. David thought as the entered the fray.

David watched as Kevin took a hook to the cheek, making him stumble to the floor. An adversary reached for a stool, prepared to break it over the unsuspecting Kevin. As the stool came on the downswing it amazingly stopped in midair, hovering only inches above his head. The attacker gawked in surprise at the hand that stayed a leg of the chair, and at the man who stood before a still kneeling Kevin. This person, he thought could be a force to reckon with. The attacker smirked and launched an attack at the new opponent.

David took him down easily. Still having the stool, he jerked his hand towards himself, and then launched the chair into the brawler.

"You!" Kevin protested. "I didn't ask for your help, why don't you –"

"go -" Kevin wrapped his hand around a lunging attackers wrist, avoiding the blade.

"the fuck -" he continued, while pulling the man into a head lock.

"home!" he finalized, breaking the man's leg and bending his arm backward, effectively snapping both limbs while in the hold.

The brute cried out in pain as Kevin tossed him headlong outside, falling in a heap on the hard dirt. Apparently a head gash wasn't slowing Kevin down much as he faced off against another opponent. He blinked from the blood running into his eye and gave it a quick wipe to subdue the flow.

Linda the barmaid was ineffectively cursing at all the men, trying to quell the ensuing brawl. She wasn't sure what to do – should she call the cops?

Two brawlers pitted themselves against the bigger adversary, David. They both brandished knives similar in size and very deadly looking. They smirked at their unarmed opponent knowing that they had an advantage. In a flash, David flipped a piece of metal over in his hand and brandished his trusty butterfly knife, one that had seen many a battle in its time. It was the same dagger he used at Raccoon city to stave off those zombie hordes, so how were a couple of punks going to compare? David had a dark expression on his face. There was no anger, no pity. A stone wall of emotion as the two men lunged – and fell as David deftly rolled between them and cut low, severing the connective tissue at the inside of each man's leg. They crumpled pitifully. It took all of David's might not to finish the job, only because instinct had taken over. It was two years ago all over again, cutting back the damned beasts that kept coming…

He shook off the blood lust rage and looked around for Kevin. Apparently the fight had continued to just outside the bar, he could still hear men scuffling. As he pushed outward, he noted that the remaining thugs had overtaken Kevin – while two men held the semi limp body, another went to work kicking and punching the vulnerable man in the midsection.

David wasted no time getting to work on the men. _These fuckers picked the wrong day to mess around,_ he thought. _I'm not in the mood_. They let Kevin crumple to the ground figuring that their multiple man attack would work again on this new opponent. They easily circled David, each with their own plan to take him down. He was hit a couple of times from behind, but only enough to daze him. He was waiting for the big attack, these little jabs were just a distraction, he knew from past experience. Then it came, a man with a leg of a barstool as a billy club ran at him with an overhead swing. This happened simultaneously with several jabs from the other two guys. Hoping to smash him while he was turned away, the assailant brought his club down – only to be blocked with David's wrists locked together above his head. David twisted and grabbed the club effectively, bashing the man with his own weapon and slashing at the man's leg in the same manner as the two who came before him.

He let the club go and turned to face the other two men, whom he was sure wasted no time to make their moves. Knives blazing, they both cut and sliced in David's direction. Unable to avoid some of the attacks, he dodged the more fatal jabs and countered with is own slices. None of the wounds David exacted were fatal, but after he was done the men wished they were.

The battle boiled down to groaning and cursing from the various men. The gang was already regrouping to check on their fellow members. _Looks like they're done._ David surmised. His thoughts turned to Kevin, and he quickly turned to the last place he seen him. Still in the crumpled pile he was left in, David noticed he hadn't moved. Rolling him onto his back, he examined his body for any major injuries and checked his breathing.

_It's slow, but he'll be okay_. _Now, what to do with him._ He had half a mind to leave him there, but the gash to his head called for some attention. So, he propped Kevin up into a shouldering position and carried him to his house.

During the walk home, David had time to think. Why did he have a desire to help Kevin at all? It's not like they had seen each other after Raccoon City. They hadn't seen each other at all as a matter of fact; they went in opposite directions and never looked back. When he looked at the man sagging in his arm beside him, he felt quite different. Putting all aside, he thought it best to deal with the situation at hand rather than mulling the past.

* * *

There was quite a bit of blood to tend to, now that the wounds had time to fester. David sat Kevin down onto the couch and retrieved some antiseptic and a cloth towel from the bathroom. After the liquid touched the bloodied mass, Kevin shot straight up in shock.

"What the hell is that?! Get it off!" he flailed in bewilderment.

"Hold still and shut up."

"I didn't ask for your help you know." Kevin retorted, seemingly trying to save his dignity. Alcohol still lingered around him, but not as strong as it was.

"Whining like a bitch isn't going to help you." David chided as Kevin sucked in through his teeth. "Let's just get this over with."

"Great. Fine. You're not going to be hearing anything out of me."

A couple of minutes passed between them in complete silence.

"Hey you got any food around here? I'm starved." Kevin mumbled. He looked around a bit before focusing on David. The intense stare at his head indicated that the wound looked pretty bad. "Look," Kevin started. "Thanks for helping me out. I'm...not good at showing gratitude."

At that moment, it seemed as though Kevin looked at him for the first time. Straight, thick hair parted in the middle came down into his eyes that he frequently swept aside. It was the length of his jawbone in the front, but long between his shoulder blades in the back that he kept tied in a ponytail. His eyes were a bit bloodshot, the rims sporting a tinge of red around the lids. When he looked at his eyes, the most striking thing was the piercing blue grey staring back at him. He had a bit of stubble on his chin that indicated he hadn't shaved in a few days. All and all, he was David from two years ago, and he was still rather good-looking.

He sucked in air again as David touched a sore spot. "Could you knock it off, already?"

"Fine I'm done." David admitted. As he turned to rinse the towel off in the bowl of sterilized water. It was then that Kevin noticed the long gash along David's back, still oozing blood.

"Holy Christ! Lemme look at that!" With that he whipped David around and pulled at the blue shirt tucked neatly in beige slacks.

"What the -?" Was all David mustered before he was shirtless, receiving the same treatment he exacted on Kevin.

"Fuck, that shit _stings_." David grimaced.

"And you were telling me not to whine. Stuff it." Kevin dabbed at the still bleeding gash. "You know I hate to tell you this, but you might need stitches."

"There's a needle and thread in that box. You learned field dressing right?"

"What?"

"It's that or go to a hospital, and I'd rather do it myself. You remember –"

"DON'T remind me. Raccoon city. Got it." The remark was enough to have the memories of a certain hospital come flooding back. He picked up the needle and threaded it. His hand trembled slightly, but he secured the needle and made the first pass. Six to close the gash and he was done.

"Here." David handed him his lighter and knife.

Kevin ignited the lighter and heated the blade as David directed, then pressed it against the wound. There was a slight hissing from David, but that was all. After a quick check, the other cuts David exhibited were superficial and would only need a few bandages.

"Thanks." He replied. He turned and pointed to Kevin's head wound. "You're bleeding again."

"Ah, shit. The bad part about drinking too much, your blood gets thinner than water." He felt the effects of his boozing wearing off, but that didn't seem to stop him from bleeding out. David snatched up the cloth and dabbed at it. He felt a twinge of something he couldn't place, but dismissed it just as quickly.

"So what's the 411 chief?" Kevin asked.

"Seems that you'll be fine. I might need to put a stitch or two in just to be safe." he commented, looking closely at the bruised area.

Kevin groaned. "Go head."

David leaned Kevin's head against the arm of the couch to keep the pressure off of his neck, and bracing the area as well. He carefully stitched the area all the while Kevin mumbled and cursed under his breath. Three stitches, and the wound was closed.

"Finished." David ended with a snip of the scissors. It was then that they realized the compromising position they were both in. David shirtless, leaning over Kevin's reclined body, a hair's breadth away from each other's face…

David suddenly flushed, his entire body turning a darker shade. Was _this_ the feeling he couldn't place?

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Update: Fixed some minor sentence flaws. 


	4. Chapter 4

Fourth chapter. EXTREME mature content, yaoi central. Read at your own risk, I know I'm going to hell in a handbasket. I'm surprised I wrote it. Wow. Anyway, I don't own Resident Evil, but David will always be alive in my heart. :) Please review!

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To David, everything felt as though things had fallen into place. There was no hesitation or anxiety in his mind and he checked his thoughts over and over again. After several attempts to debunk his perception of the event, he concluded that it felt…right. He gazed down at the man below him, feeling the warmth emanating from his body. That moment lasted for an eternity, lightly resting over Kevin's chest. It felt as though he were floating as he breathlessly watched Kevin's eyes shifted to meet David's… 

What is this? In all this time, he never felt anything about anyone. Why now? A part of himself was starting to get fed up with these newfound emotions. An inner turmoil caught and spread through his mind like a mental forest fire all in the span of a few seconds. What is it that he wanted? As fast as cut away from the feeling rising in his chest, more clamored its way to the surface. He fought to show any emotion on his face. What would Kevin say then? Suppress was the way to go, the best way.

The way he always chose.

"Hey, get your heavy ass body offa me." Kevin shoved at his David's chest, and it felt in retrospect almost deliberately weak – a man his size would not have moved an inch with that type of force.

David almost didn't want to move. The gesture broke his mental conflict long enough to sit back against the couch – then wincing at the wound on his back, upright on the cushion. A chill passed through him, as if he felt the absence of Kevin's body heat. He was still wracking his brain when Kevin cleared his throat.

"You never did tell me if you got anything to eat here. I am going to starve!" he stood up abruptly and waltzed over to the fridge. After noting that there was only a six pack and a jar of pickles, he sighed. "Guess we're gonna have to order out. You like Chinese? Pizza?" He had an amused and quirky smile on his face. The look was probably an attempt at humor, for raising his eyebrows soon followed, and David felt himself smirk.

"Yeah, Chinese is fine." he said as he reclaimed his shirt. The decision was mutual.

Fifteen minutes had passed after the call was made, and Kevin had already made short work of four from the six pack compared to David's one. His buzz was more than noticeable as he wavered at the kitchen table.

"and really" he continued his story " I was hoping to get fired. Being at sixth district in Cleveland was worse than frying in Hell on barbeque Friday in the middle of July. If you know what I mean." He grinned at his metaphor, and it seemed the drunker Kevin was the more colorful his language got. "So I just turned up the 'charm'. Working there turned out to be…short term."

Even though Kevin was talking about the past, it seemed that the conversation wasn't helping much with coping or venting. It seemed like a defense mechanism created against any display of true innermost emotion. As an almost expert at watching and listening, David could tell when people were avoiding something. He thought he should intervene.

"You should really stop drinking so much."

"Fuck off." It sounded as though he had been told that too many times.

"You're giving your best to the bottle, you know that."

"I need to mind your own business." Not right, but he got the point.

David knew this wasn't a fight he was going to win easily, so he decided to try a more direct approach. "If you wanted to drink yourself to death, you should've just let those damn zombie freaks eat you instead. It would have saved you the trouble - and money - on booze."

The comment seemed to strike a chord in Kevin, and he stood straight off the chair. He was barely inches away from David's face, and the smell of liquor crept into his nostrils as he spoke. "Never. Bring that up again." Pain and anger was clearly etched onto his face, even in his current state.

Suddenly David had seen it.

In Kevin's piercing blue eyes there was a fiery spark, one that spoke of pure emotion and impulse, the embodiment of his spirit. David recognized this as the truth, the Kevin that he had known two years ago – the one before him now. That spark was still there, buried under layers of denial and pain. A swirl of emotion flickered in Kevin's eyes and seemed to mist in memory. Or in the reaction on his own face, he realized at once when Kevin grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward.

"How would you know about regret? Or loss for that matter? You just left, and I never heard from you again. Is that how you coped? Hiding in this damn little town? Were you just going to blend in and hope no one noticed?" he pushed David back down into his chair, still no more than a breath away from his face. This grip was more forceful than a moment ago and he could hardly believe it came from the same person. "How do you think I felt…when you left?" his tone had quieted to barely a whisper as he spoke the last sentence. David would have been an idiot to not know what that last statement implied, yet here he was dumbfounded and speechless, his own feelings confirmed. He felt the need to argue, contest his feelings, lash out in anger at the surge of heat that welled from his body…

Then there was a knock at the door.

"For Christ's sake, who the fuck is it?" Kevin yelled.

"Chinese delivery." Was the muffled response and Kevin mustered a last push at David before extrapolating the assembled money on the table and throwing open the door. "Here." He shoved the wad into the small, meager looking man and commanded that he keep the change. After the man turned away the door slammed curtly behind him.

"I'm not done with this." Kevin remarked as the food landed on the table.

David was still seething, even though his normal tactic to quell anger by maintaining his nonchalance was running through his mind. It was the same feeling that he had all that time ago, when Kevin saved him in the sewers. It was that brash officer attitude that crawled under his skin and irritated the hell out of it. Two years had passed, and now that they were no longer hunted in Raccoon City, it was time to settle the score. Now was the time to act.

"You are seriously fucked up man," Kevin continued "thinking that you could just crawl under a rock or something. You're the one who thinks I'm screwed up? You need to look at a mirror. You're always fuckin' running and trying to do things your own goddamn way. Alone. You've always been like that. Fuck, are you just going to watch the world go by? You better think before you go giving advice to somebody else, because you're pretty fuckin' messed up yourself." Yes, there seemed a resistance, the constant stream of words slowly ebbing his true emotion out of the equation. Confirmation was there in the form of a dead look in his eyes.

Through all the inner conflict running in his mind he was trying to find his best course of action.

_Don't do anything. _

_Do something. He insulted you again, the fucking asshole._

_Hit him, punch him hard in the face and shut him up. _

_Don't do anything._

He stood up.

_What am I doing?_

He walked over to Kevin and grabbed his collar.

_Haul back and nail him on the chin. Tell him off. _

_Don't do anything. _

_Push him back. You hate him, for everything he stands for._

"What are you going to do, asshole? Take your best shot. I've been waiting two years for you to do something – anything, instead of running and hiding. Go head. Hit me, it's been what you've been wanting to do this whole time! You're just a goddamn coward!" the stream of abuse was almost climactic.

David's fist was curled so tightly his knuckled were white. "Shut. Up." David growled through his teeth.

_Do it._ _Shut him up_.

The pressure behind his temple his so great that he could feel the throbbing of his heartbeat, and his body trembled with a cold chill.

_Don't do it, don't act_. His body kept telling him.

David grabbed the side of Kevin's chin. With all the reckless abandon that he had been trying to stave off, he pressed his lips to Kevin's. It was forceful and emotional, as if it were the last breath he was going to take. It was consuming and greedy, the most selfish kiss he ever yielded. When it was done, he pulled away, unable to believe what he had just done. Kevin was in as much shock, he could tell by the look on his face. David's mind was still wracked with the battle going on inside himself, the inner turmoil even more pertinent now after that unspoken confession. He wanted to say something…say _something_.

Then Kevin returned the favor, lips parting ever so that his tongue poked and prodded David's with a hint of liquor – and something sweet, a taste that was Kevin. It wasn't gentle in any meaning of the word; it was forceful and wanting, probing the creases of his mouth with all the energy of desire.

"Damn you. " Kevin hissed, and started to draw away. "After all this time you choose now to…"

His complaint was ebbed by the mouth clamped onto his with all the fervor as the first time. What the hell am I doing? David thought to himself. Now that he succumbed to this need, he could not suppress it. He was yearning for what Kevin had, a want that stemmed from his very core.

Kevin was not lagging. Tearing into his buttoned shirt, he felt across David's bare nipples and gave them a rough tug, in turn sending waves of pleasure through David's body. He could tell, because his breath came in short shallow gasps.

Kevin never realized how desirable David really was. Somehow after the ordeal of Raccoon City his skin was unmarred yet rough in some patches, all which need to be explored. It was rough and wet, teeth running across bare skin, sending both men into a frenzy of need.

Kevin was slammed against the nearest wall, arms raised above his head. Guessing he deserved it from his violent investigation, as the last nip left a red mark on the olive colored skin. Then it was Kevin's turn to be mauled of his shirt and probed, his large textured hands almost massaging the chest muscles because of the provocative tension.

"Is this what it is, between us? A rough bout of foreplay? Is this what you want?" He closed Kevin's mouth again with his own, this time with a hint of sweat mixed into the wetness. Anything to keep him from talking. He just needed time to think, to weed out his feelings from what he was doing. Was this what he truly wanted?

Kevin kept challenging; not particularly to stop David's advances so much as to increase both of their enthusiasm. The frustration that they harbored toward each other had not decreased during their time apart - if either of them thought about it, quite the opposite happened. Clothes made an audible ripping sound as the rest of Kevin's faded blue shirt fell to the ground.

"You ripped my fucking shirt, you asshole. After you're done screwing around you're getting me a new one." That comment got him slammed against another wall – not exactly a downfall, he thought as David threw off Kevin's belt with a flick of his arm.

Things were moving so fast that David was missing crucial moments to think things though. What exactly was going to happen between them? Where was this leading?

"Bedroom." he mouthed, as if he had replied to his own question.

"I'm not going anywhere, fucker. You're just going to have to-" and he was cut off by the woosh of air from his lungs. He was over David's shoulder then, and he couldn't exactly protest, now that there was nothing left in him – literally. A faint grunt was all he could muster, barely audible past David's heavy footsteps. Rooms of the house whizzed by as Kevin struggled, not exactly in protest, to the better-leveraged David.

Then he fell with a bounce onto a soft mattress, with David following fast. Much like earlier in the night he was over him shirtless, this time slick with sweat and spit. Their mouths roamed over each other, licking and consuming one another with all hurriedness. Kevin could not gauge what was going on in that mind of David's, but that was pretty hard on a normal occasion. There was something in his eyes though, like a lustful wanting look that he had not quite seen before.

Granted there was a look that Kevin would never forget; briefly he thought about that night in the sewer. After they had escaped by ladder, he patted David on the arm. _"See that wasn't so bad at all. You just got to listen every now and then._" As Kevin said these words his eyes met David's. There was a cold stare in David's eye as he visibly swallowed, his jaw set in protest.

"I didn't need you to save me." David retorted, eyes locked on Kevin's, unmoving and hard.

"Need or want? You would have wound up dead, if it weren't for me." He returned the icy stare. "I'll be damned if you leave me here to face these freaks alone. You're just going to have to deal with it." Kevin suddenly smiled wide. "Living for me wouldn't be so bad, would it?" David was still staring hard at Kevin, but the angry glare had been replaced with something else, a look he couldn't understand.

Looking at David, there was a hint of that look now coupled with a few other emotions he could well describe. Kevin was sure that being so cocky aggravated David – it had with everyone, that wasn't a mystery – but why this?

Those were the precious few seconds that Kevin had to think before he was being dominated by David again, every inch of his chest was wet as he kissed lower, until he reached Kevin's waistline. Swiftly the button and zipper were undone, and there was a tug, causing the pants to practically fly off. This was a frantic pace kept by both men, either of them unwilling to cease their advances. Kevin made all attempts to urge David on by snide remarks. David kept his own pace, regardless of the chiding Kevin dished out.

"What are you planning to do now?" Kevin sneered. "Look, I got shit to do –"

David growled and threw Kevin's arms up and wide, pinning them down to the bed. Kevin groaned in protest, but there was a slight moan involved as well since he wasn't put off to the idea of this handsome man above him. He let his mouth roam over Kevin while he was unable to move in that lover's embrace.

Handsome. Yes, David was handsome – and strong as he struggled against his host. That just made David all the hotter, and when Kevin did break free, he grabbed a handful of hair that had worked its way from the ponytail and pulled. This gave Kevin enough leverage to work David's clothes off and undo the neatly pressed slacks that kept their skin from touching.

David was still reeling from the heated power struggle. It had always been like this; one always had to have it their way, and the other would always object, demanding their own approach. Even then back in Raccoon City it was like this. Back then, however, there was no time to delve deep into the meaning of their relationship.

Now it was blooming before their eyes. They wanted each other. They had always wanted each other; they were both just too stubborn and pig-headed to admit it. Yet here they were, in each other's arms at the moment before breaking threshold of their individually tepid existences.

With a twist of his arm, David had regained the upper hand of their struggle for supremacy. He lay Kevin down and hovered over his now bare skin, lightly brushing the scarred chest – had he noticed those before? – and the delicate pattern felt good on his own skin. The solid erection Kevin was sporting indicated that despite all of the complaints, he too was enjoying himself.

The kissing went deeper, probing the inside of his mouth like there was no better flavor in the world. Kevin still tasted a bit like alcohol and cigarettes, but it was a good taste. Everything about him felt good, felt right to be doing. Why did he feel this way? David pondered.

"Whoa hold on," Kevin murmured. "You're not gonna just push on in without some lube." With that, his hands were released and he rummaged in the nightstand without looking, as their bodies were pressed so tight and their focus was set on each other so heavily. The bottle was grabbed, liquid squeezed and applied within seconds.

Kevin started to protest again as David slid between Kevin's legs. "Why should you be the one to – " but he was pinned and David slid in slowly, spreading him open.

"Ah…" was the only remark Kevin could make. Hot and cold flashes went sparking through his body at the penetration. All of his muscles cried out at this new sensation. It was not altogether unpleasant, and after David was properly mounted, there was nothing he could do to stop from enjoying it.

Then Kevin was pushing him for more.

"Fuck, can't you go any harder?" Kevin grunted. Pain and pleasure mixed together and added more to the power struggle that was their union.

David was happy to oblige as he felt the walls of muscle close in around his cock almost rhythmically. It felt as though he were being pulled in more and more…then there.

"Fuck! Oh my…" Kevin moaned. That was the spot.

"Goddamn." David completed, feeling a surge of his own urgency. He clamped down and kept from ending their fanatical conflict.

Then Kevin was spun around onto his stomach as David applied the proper leverage, propping Kevin's ass upward slightly and entering again, this time with more abandon.

Kevin shouted in elation as David filled the small space with his whole manifestation, getting all the way down to the shaft and back out again several times. Then in a final attempt to outdo the other, he stroked at the g-spot over and over. Kevin rocked back on the entry with a senseless abandon an unyielding supply of energy running through him. A satisfied grin appeared on David's face as he heard Kevin come, hot and sweaty, gasping into the pillow in exultation. He shuddered as the climax ran its course while he was still inside the tender walls, and that was enough to make him spill and collapse in exhaustion.

"I won." David managed.

"Fucker." Kevin cat-called. He rolled over to David and nestled in as David threw an arm around him. This time the kiss was more passionate and caring. David barely felt it; it was as though he were kissed by an angel. He blinked and when he opened his eyes he saw the fiery spark that he knew would be there, Kevin's passionate soul smiling down on him.

"How did you know that you were what I needed?" Kevin asked out loud. "How did we know we needed each other?"

"I don't think we did." David spoke, after several minutes of pondering. He looked down at Kevin and pushed his hair back, which had become unruly during their coupling. "To tell you the truth, I thought I would never see you again after Raccoon City."

"Same here, man. If you were to ask me who the last person I'd fuck would be…well damn, I don't even think you'd be on the list. I'm a class-A womanizer, honestly." He rested his head on David's shoulder. "I'll be the first to say it though. I'm glad that we did."

"Yeah." David agreed. They kissed again, and this time it felt a little more than a passing fancy. Kevin slid his hand around David's cock and stroked up and down over the shaft.

"Again?" David breathed.

"Yeah. My turn." Kevin replied curtly, forcing his way between David's legs. "I mean come on." Kevin seemed an unending supply of energy, and after the work he had to put into this last ordeal, he didn't mind taking the leisurely path as Kevin lubed up and positioned himself for entry.

"So, this is – ah…" David murmured as Kevin slipped past the outer layer.

"Yeah, so how do _you_ like it?" Kevin prodded, trying to win the mental race to the finish. "I got you right where _I_ want you."

"It's so…good…" was the most David could manage.

Soon Kevin had David turned out and huffing in time to their own unspoken song, Kevin standing off the bed and David on all fours, panting and gasping right along in rhythm. It took a little more work for Kevin to figure out what made David tick, but once he found the right spot, everything clicked along easily. His nails dug into David's hip and he pushed all the way down to the shaft and back, quietly whispering his name over and over again. David pushed into the grind, a little more impervious to pain than Kevin, all the while heaving and grunting.

"I'm gonna..." was the only whisper David could manage, and all Kevin could do was smile because he knew that _he_ won this time.

At the contraction of muscles however, his victory was sort lived; he was fast to follow suit to David, muttering all sorts of curses in ecstasy as he was drained, all the life force sapped out of his body.

"I'm done." Kevin announced as he collapsed on the bed next to David. "You can stick a fork in me."

"Fuck?" David mused, raising an eyebrow in a mischievous glance.

"Sure, just give me time to recoop." Kevin winked.

Amongst the splayed sheets in a mixture of sweat and fluid, the two pressed close to each other. After years of depression and pain were they finally together; one complimenting the other in a yin-yang of conflicting energy, one always needing the other to feel complete without realizing it. They would always feel this pull towards one another – their pairing was inevitable.

The only ones who didn't realize this – was each other.

They watched as the sun rose to meet a new day, patterns of color and light splashed across the walls and bed sheets. As he looked longingly at Kevin, David realized that the rest of his days would never feel the same to him. Something in his mind surfaced from the past, something that he had since blocked out from pain or trauma.

It was Kevin, the haughty officer, with a hand on his arm and a spark in his eye. _Living for me wouldn't be so bad, would it?_ David remembered the phrase as clear as the day he heard it now, the shackles of his mind unfolding as his memory came back to him. His muscles had jumped, and hate had burned at his guts…but there was something more, something that he had derived from those eyes that day.

Kevin didn't want him to leave. It had nothing to do with zombie freaks or being unaccompanied to the end. Kevin didn't want to be alone – without _him_. A brief glance beside him into Kevin's eyes had reaffirmed this awareness. As much as he didn't want to back down because of his pride and arrogance, something in that glimmer had stayed his anger, and quenched his hate. Those eyes are what made him fall, and he always would be captivated by them.

After pondering, which he had only assumed at this point was 'afterglow' did he break the easy silence between them.

"I am…living…for you." The undertone in David's voice was intimate and passionate. "I am…living…_because_ of you. Back then, I would have…" Died, he almost finished.

"I know, just…don't say it." Was all Kevin mouthed, and he rested back into David's arm.

Days around here wouldn't feel the same indeed, David thought to himself. The total irony of day in day out melted away with the catalyst known as Kevin in his life. Flashing back to when he first seen him in the bar, David recalled how against all odds he invited himself into Kevin's life. All the day in day out events of his boring life had been felled in that second, the same shit different day scenario that had become his lifestyle. All this stemmed from an unpredicted incident and a spoken word.

"I suppose idle talk has its place sometimes."

"Hah. Coming from a pessimist like you?"

"No, I'm serious." He smiled, gazing fondly upon Kevin.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, David slept peacefully. No nightmares, no zombies, no underground hell to plague him at his perpetual end. He felt only the comfort of the blankets and Kevin lying beside him.

When he awoke, the house was eerily quiet. David didn't have to look around to know that Kevin was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Back by popular demand, here's the next chapter. Special thanks to Hashimerr for asking me to continue. Otherwise, I would've left this story right were it is.

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Part 2: City Limits

…Should he follow him?...

…_probably not._

…what should he do?...

Why in hell did he feel like this?

For hours he ruminated, thinking about it over and over. Lying in the bed he tossed the covers and stared at the ceiling. It had been hours past since he was supposed to be at work, but he didn't care.

Kevin had come into his life, disrupted his entire methodological way of living and left just as abruptly. That bastard hadn't even left a note.

What was he supposed to think?

"I've gotta stop acting like a chick." he mumbled to himself. Rising from the unkempt mattress, he assembled some clothes and entered the bathroom. Hot water sprayed from the shower head as the warmth caressed his body.

All he had to do was act as though nothing happened. Apparently Kevin had already done that.

Thoughts still churned at his gut after the exited the bathroom, heralded by the roll of mist in his wake. Usually aggravations melted away in the heat – he liked hot showers. It seemed that his mind wasn't going to let go so easily.

_Shit._ The word formed on his lips and hung there. David had professed everything; everything that he denied over the past two years, everything from that fateful day he spoke to Kevin last night. To let it end like this was a travesty; unfair was the only word that it boiled down to in his mind.

_Why_ did he just _leave_?

Snatching his keys from the table, he took his frustration out on the door of the apartment, car, and anything else that interacted with his body. Sliding into the driver's seat, he attempted to mend what was left of his menial life and head to work. For about ten minutes he gripped the wheel, though he hadn't even attempted to put it in gear.

_Damn it._

Then, he had a thought.

Kevin's motorcycle was still at the bar the last time he checked. It was a snowball's chance in hell, but maybe he could pick up a clue as to where he went.

Slamming the shifter into drive, tires peeled out as David made his way toward the bar. Damn the consequences.

Regardless of what he thought, he would find Kevin; when he did he would be sure to punch him with the hardest right hook he could muster.

The motorcycle was not there as he had predicted. An iron hand pushed the bar door open as he stepped into the smoky atmosphere and straight up to the counter.

"Linda, did you see Kevin this morning?" cold eyes stared at her, and when she turned her view to the long time patron she almost shrunk back, intimidated by the stare. The barmaid recovered quickly and matched the intense look of the dark haired man.

"Yeah, that ass drove otta here real early. Can't say I'm sad to see him leave – he caused a lotta trou-"

"I got that, Linda." Palms pressed into the table as he spoke. She noticed that his knuckles were white from being pushed so hard into the wood. Her mouth closed, though her expression didn't change.

"I - have business with him that I want to settle. Did he tell you or anybody else where he was going?"

Thinking for a moment, her brows furrowed. Angrily chewing her bottom lip, she finally answered. "He asked somebody where Route 66 Northbound could be reached from here. Then he left."

It was David's turn to think, focus shifting in deductive thought. Why would he want to go north? Eyes suddenly widening, he slapped Linda on the shoulder in thanks and practically ran out of the establishment.

North. There's only one place that he could have gone, and with a sinking heart he climbed into the driver's seat again to make the same trek as his partner would have hours before.

Only one place, and he sure as hell did not want to follow.

Gritting his teeth, he let the words slip from his mouth painfully for the first time in two years.

Raccoon City.

The City Limits sign passed by in a matter of four hours. Normally a trip like this would take twice as long, and he knew well enough that the 'speed limit' was no where near the rate he was traveling. The highway northbound was not busy at all; traffic was a lot like three in the morning with cars spread few and in between.

David could hardly imagine that the road would be crowded; for the past two years, Raccoon City had only been a ghost town. No moves to renovate and resell the property had been made because no one wanted to buy it. The blood soaked land was as good as cursed or haunted; who would want to live in an area that was nuked and probably still contained fallout and radiation poisoning?

It was true that the land had been destroyed. Even after two years the Arklay Mountains still looked ashen and black, an eerie mist circling the cliffs which lingered just above the tree line. David shivered; the last place that he ever wanted to see again were those cluster of peaks ominously jutting from the landscape. The woods, the hospital…visions plagued his memory again, turning his stomach at the thought of grotesque meaty life forms stumbling across ruined and desolate environments.

Shaking his head, he focused on the road ahead of him. He'd be damned if he let those memories haunt him now. He needed to find Kevin and get the hell out of here.

Instead he puzzled on why his partner would travel back to this decimated land. Surely the zombie hordes were eradicated as soon as the outbreak became public; nothing remained here, save for the spooky images the shadows conjured. What brought him back?

On the same token he could not believe he would subject himself to witnessing this place again first hand. In short, he'd rather be dead. Those zombie freaks _would_ be the only inhabitants of this diseased land; now there's nothing.

Why the hell would Kevin come back here? Maybe he misinterpreted; going north may not have necessarily meant here…

No. David shook his head. This was the only place he went. Now he only had to locate him amongst the debris. Having a car would make the search much faster.

Still, Raccoon City was a desolate environment; there would be little chance of finding any life left anywhere within its city limits.

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If you like this story, please review to keep me informed - that way I'll know to keep writing it:) 


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry for the long wait…the chapter isn't exactly short but it isn't the longest either. I will, however promise to post a bit quicker from now on…

There's a brief visit to the past that I put in line breaks toward the middle. Hope it's not confusing.

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After a half hour of winding through familiar city streets, David was beginning to think that he had finally gone crazy.

No one graced these hollow roads save for one man on a single-minded mission. That person was currently cursing inward, declaring himself an idiot for having drove right into the one place he never wanted to be caught dead, alive, or otherwise.

Through his search, David had not so much as cracked a window for fear of the stench of amassed bodies decomposing along the street.

Two years did not mean bodies stopped smelling any worse. Especially zombified ones.

David was past the point of creepy crawlies, heebie jeebies and all that shit. This was freaky. And disgusting.

It was amazing how little the city had changed. According to the news, the nation had declared Umbrella Incorporation 'a threat to civilization as we know it' and launched a nationwide assault on all divisions of the company. Raccoon City was indeed a calamity, but one that was easily forgotten amongst corporate and military issues.

For all intents and purposes, Raccoon City was left to rot, doomed as a time capsule of decay and failure; a sore spot on the Earth's surface.

All that the city had done in the past two years is decompose, nature trying in vain to erase the sinister past of man's corrupt ways.

David was not one to philosophize on the past, but in one brief flicker, he felt a pang of compassion for the run down city; they had both suffered tremendously from the same fate.

However he had survived, where the town had only become more dilapidated.

Only a handful of men and women were able to escape, a ragtag group of individuals determined to alter their doomed fate within the confinements of Raccoon City. They had only narrowly avoided the town's swansong as the president had approved a nuclear strike, several air to surface projectiles slamming into every square inch, hoping to decimate the zombie hordes threatening to pour out to neighboring communities. Panic and fear were constant companions in that time.

Two years wasn't long enough to forget.

David never kept tabs with any of the companions that he lived – and almost died – with. It was too much, the reminder of his imminent demise a constant burden on his consciousness; those people a testament to his near death experience.

Without Kevin, he would have died.

David's thoughts froze as he caught a glimpse of a familiar motorcycle hidden down a small alley. Brakes screeched as he threw it in reverse, determined to confirm – he hoped that he wasn't seeing things.

He finally withdrew from his car, confident that the bike nestled in the small space looked too new to be an abandoned relic. Upon further inspection, the engine was still warm.

"Hm." He mouthed out loud. Kevin was definitely here.

Not much appreciating the forced trip down memory lane, he focused his thoughts on tracking Kevin; he would say what he need to get off his chest and get the hell out of here. Simple.

One of the doors in the alley looked as though it had recently been serviced. After surveying the streets for the last hour, David was certain where this door lead: It was the passage through which the police department could be accessed.

It was with an uncomfortable nostalgia that his thoughts returned to why this place held importance. David had met Kevin for the first time.

Kevin had almost put a bullet in between his eyes then.

David had been working at the water treatment plant doing routine service. It was a normal on-site procedure, until the facility shut down unexpectedly. Looking back, the military already were putting their strike into action, and cutting off water supply lines was first priority. At the time, he didn't know what was happening.

Then the freaks started showing up. They were climbing out of the fucking pipes, sewer grates…anything that could be traversed.

Narrowly escaping through the adjoining alley by hacking remote security panels of the facility, he grasped the iron framed door in an attempt to access the police department. Surely there would be adequate protection with the men in blue…at least weapons.

As he ran through the hall lined with pipes and concrete in past as well as present, he couldn't help but feel the same tension that beat in his chest. Reaching the end of the tunnel, he whipped the portal open and dealt face to face with the past…

* * *

A jagged click sounded, and a hot piece of metal jammed onto the bridge of his nose. He smelled gunpowder and burning flesh, the itchy feeling of kinetic energy in the air as the pressure on his forehead brought his run to an indefinite halt. His head threw back, catching the solid object resting against his brow. The smell of machine oil filled his nostrils.

The burn caused him to flinch, the click caused his eyes to close in response. For a moment he held his breath, hoping to whatever god may be listening that he was not an enemy to someone with enough sense to pull a trigger.

He only hoped that man could tell the difference.

He felt his heart skip, his breath hitched in his throat. _This is it…_

A moment passed, but he remained standing.

"You're _human_, …right? A husky voice inquired.

"Yeah." he breathed, eyes flashing open again. The gun stubbornly stayed, only offering David a partial view of his would be shooter. A man with wild brown hair and sparkling blue eyes looked back.

Seconds ticked between them in that first moment. So much exchanged, but nothing said.

"I guess that means you are too." David raised his hands, revealing only a wrench and his pocketknife, the gesture in hopes to lessen the tension between them.

"Yeah." David seen the arm twitch, then drop sharply. He could till feel the burn of the pistol against his forehead.

"The question is, what the fuck happened to everybody else?" Obviously the man was as distressed about the turn of events as David was. A hand ran through the messy auburn hair, though in no attempt to straighten it.

"I don't know." Looking carefully at the gun wielder, he noticed the RPD insignia blazoned on his jacket. "Hey, are you a cop?"

* * *

David shook from his mental vision and focused on the present day environment. Everything is as it was; the notion did not surprise him, though he almost wished something was different. Maybe a drastic change in the scenery would save him from the barrage of the past, thoughts of Kevin drifting too close to his heart for comfort.

He needed to find that asshole and give him a piece of his mind.

Revisiting the small alcove, he felt innate senses return to him, as though they had been in slumber since leaving Raccoon City. Heightened awareness coupled his eyes and ears, both straining in the murky depths of tunnel for more clues as to what had transpired recently. Slowly, gradually – his mind tuned into the mundane muddy scenery and processed what he could discern from the environment.

Faint scuffle marks indicated that this passageway had been used fairly often, gashes in the stone fresh and light in comparison to the dusty corners of the chamber.

Reflexively, the switchblade was in his hand. He didn't realize when it had happened, only noticed the solid weight in his palm as he turned it over with his fingers, evenly distributing the length over the calloused pad.

It was a bit ludicrous to assume that anything dangerous existed in this town anymore once he thought about it. It was bombarded with nuclear bombs for Christ's sake; _nothing_ would be alive here. He'd be lucky if he walked out of here with just a slight case of radiation poisoning.

The hair on the back of his neck prickled at the sound of something at the end of the long corridor. Voices?

His imagination took off at the faint noises, visions of zombies crowding his mind causing a panic that spread like wildfire in his senses. He strained to listen, but the hall had become silent, denying him further insight as to what awaited. Suppressing the anxiety of being confronted with a fear he had tried to forget for two years, he crept forward towards the metal door at the end of the passage. The entrance was slightly opened, a small flickering light dancing along the tattered floor. A creaking sound echoed in his ears, causing him to involuntarily grip his knife a little tighter.

Slowly, he edged toward the door and listened. Silence again.

Throwing caution to the wind, he took a breath and steeled himself for what could be waiting. The element of surprise with him, he grabbed the frame and deftly threw open the door.


End file.
